


The Devolution of Marigolds

by Punk_Kenobi



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arthur's my favorite, Gen, I should go sit in the corner, I wrote this at three AM, So of course I have to torture him, What Was I Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Kenobi/pseuds/Punk_Kenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>How Arthur would react to the few people who cared about him being dead he had no idea, and that put him on edge.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A crash leaves everyone in MJN dead except Arthur. Herc is left to deal with the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devolution of Marigolds

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this has been swirling in my head for a long while. I really didn't want to post it, I don't know how many people would want to read this, but there you go. I love making happy characters unhappy, even if it makes me cry. Also, I don't even know if I dealt with Herc in an accurate way, but he would do anything to honor Carolyn's wishes and make Arthur happy.
> 
> Also, I'm not British so I don't try to write stories like I am, it'll be too fake. I don't know how British mental health systems work. No beta, as usual, so if you don't like writing straight from the brain with some minor editing then this is likely not for you.

Herc waited for Arthur to wake. He knew Martin and Douglas hadn't, they had succumbed to their injuries and the cold of the English Channel in December too fast. Carolyn only woke briefly to tell him important things, things she wanted him to know. She was stoic and seemed to have accepted the inevitable quickly, which was probably for the best, as the inevitable happened quickly as well.

One thing stood out to him, though, and that was that she wanted him to take care of Arthur. Herc had no real paternal nature to speak of, nor any real attachment to Arthur. He was just there, the dim but sweet-natured steward of the former MJN Air charter service. He figured Arthur could take care of himself, being thirty and all.

However, Herc had an uneasy feeling. How Arthur would react to the few people who cared about him being dead he had no idea, and that put him on edge.

\---------

When Arthur woke up, he was disoriented, disheveled, another D word that was bad. Anything but brilliant. He hurt just about everywhere and looking around the room made him nervous. He didn't like doctors much, what with all the pokey things they did. One thing stood out as wrong, though.

Mum wasn't around.

Mum was always around if he was in the hospital. Like the time he had to get his tonsils out at ten, or when he broke his leg trying to impress a girl in secondary school by borrowing his friend's skateboard.

But this time she wasn't. Where was she?

Herc was sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs that he knew no one really liked sitting in but did anyway. Arthur was confused, but that seemed to happen a lot when he ended up in the hospital.

"...where's Mum?"

\---------

Herc had to break the news. He did so in an adult manner, albeit gently. He wasn't prepared for the reaction.

Or lack of one, really.

Arthur was quiet, a trait not typically fitting of the steward. Almost eerily so. Herc expected an outburst with tears or anger. That's what a lot of people did when told their family and friends were dead.

Arthur was silent. A slight glazed look passed over his face for a second and then he looked down, neither acknowledging or denying that he even heard Herc speak, but he knew.

Herc left soon after. He couldn't take the silence any longer. He offered to come visit every day during visiting hours but Arthur hadn't budged.

\-----------

The funerals were arranged after Arthur left the hospital so he could attend. The services, separate as they were for the three of them, were all attended by different people. Martin's family was heartbroken, Douglas' was small and rather somber as he didn't have much family he kept in contact with and his drinking buddies weren't that close, and Arthur had to endure his aunt Ruth showering sympathy he knew was fake at Carolyn's. Arthur attended all three, as did Herc, but he left before the pastor was to ask him to speak. Herc spoke in his place, as Arthur hadn't uttered a single word since he had left the hospital other than where necessary.

Herc helped Arthur readjust, helping him find work. Arthur wasn't happy with his wait staff job he held, Herc could tell, but he needed a source of independent income and unfortunately, there were no airlines that would even consider hiring Arthur as a steward. Herc had even tried convincing his superiors but they hadn't accepted, citing Arthur as incompetent and childish.

Two of Carolyn's wishes were to keep her house and to get another plane exactly like GERTI for Arthur. A semblance of normality for her son, since she knew this would be a big shock to him. Carolyn didn't have nearly enough money for the plane she had before it had crashed, so it was with a heavy conscience that Herc had to pass on the replica of GERTI for now, instead bribing one of his wealthy associates to let their charter plane stay in GERTI's hangar and to let Arthur sit in it occasionally.

Herc paid the bills for the house so that Arthur could stay, occasionally staying over just to justify spending so much on the house but he worried for Arthur. Not in a paternal way, but in the way anyone would when taking care of someone who was but a shell of their former self. Arthur stayed in the part of the house formerly designated to him. Herc had to occasionally dust the furniture and decorations in the main part of the house, Arthur refused to set foot in the rooms he knew his mother had inhabited. It was as if he had finally grown in maturity, but maturity fit Arthur like a too small shoe.

Herc couldn't remember the last time Arthur had called anything brilliant.

\----------

The moment Herc knew there was something even more wrong than there already was was when Arthur hadn't come home after work five months after the crash.

Herc knew Arthur had become almost eerily rigid in his routine. Wake up, work, come home, bed, occasional plane visits on weekends. Arthur didn't frequent pubs, which was probably a good thing, but who knew anymore with him? He'd changed so much, Herc didn't know what was normal for him anymore. He called all the pubs in Fitton, which said he hadn't stepped foot in them, or at least near the bars.

Next he checked his work, who said he'd left after his shift ended and inquired as to why he was asking. Herc didn't bother answering, simply thanking them and hanging up, then calling the airfield. Arthur never went anywhere unnecessary anymore aside from the airfield.

And Dirk had seen Arthur heading for GERTI's hangar.

Herc drove over to Fitton airfield, slightly unnerved by this change of events. He knew when someone changed their routine that something was amiss.

What Herc saw when he entered the open plane sent chills down his spine.

Arthur was smiling. Smiling and talking like he had once. Herc spoke with a slightly uneven voice.

"....Arthur?"

Arthur turned to him from where he was, making coffee with a smile.

"Oh, hello, Herc! Fancy a cup of coffee? I was just about to take Martin and Douglas theirs. They always like coffee before flights. Black and two sugars for Martin, plain for Douglas. I finally remembered!"

Herc didn't know the first thing about this. He was intelligent and took pride in that fact, he knew how to maintain composure during the most chaotic and disastrous situations, but this threw him off and he could only speak the truth.

"Arthur...there's no one here but us."

Arthur blinked, then shook his head, pointing to somewhere behind Herc's head.

"How could you say that? Mum's right behind you. She's yelling at a passenger, how could you not hear that?"

\-----------

Herc had convinced Arthur to visit a private therapist after the incident in the plane. Arthur disliked the visits, Herc knew he didn't like doctors, even though the therapist wasn't really a doctor. After four visits, Arthur came home distraught. Herc had been staying just to keep an eye on him, even though he made his intentions vague so as to not cause any problems. Over some tea, Herc got Arthur to talk about what was bothering him.

"They want to put me in the hospital! Mum says I shouldn't go, since it'll cost money we don't have. Besides, we've got a trip to Istanbul next week, I can't be put in the hospital. MJN needs me!"

Herc didn't know what to do. This was never his area of expertise but he promised Carolyn that he'd take care of her son, even if it meant ruining what mentally fabricated happiness he had. Arthur couldn't live this way, in his own little world. Herc said nothing and sipped his tea.

Within a week, Arthur had been sectioned and gone into hospital.

\------------

Underneath the sterile, white-washed conditions of the urgent care part of the hospital, Arthur couldn't hold up his delusions and his hallucinations started to come and go with medication. Still, he was far from alright. Herc received occasional letters once Arthur had been moved from the urgent care to inpatient, long-term ward, but Arthur told him it was because everyone else sent letters to mothers, fathers, friends, but Herc was the only person he had. That stung Herc in a way he didn't expect, as if Arthur only considered him someone to talk to out of peer pressure rather than someone he wanted to talk to. The letters ranged from long, delusional, cheerful rants about his day to lucid, brusque updates on what was going on.

_We were allowed to walk around the grounds today, since the weather's nice and I hadn't done anything to be kept inside like others did. Mum told me the country air is good for me, but she knows I prefer being up in the sky, even in thunderstorms. I don't like thunderstorms, they're too loud and they make GERTI shake about. Anyway, the air's thinner, but it's probably better somehow. Martin and I talked about bears. Did you know pandas are his favorite? They're not even bears, though! I tried telling him that and he just laughed. That's okay, because I laughed with him._

\-----------

_They put me on some sort of medicine. Another one, anyway. That's four now. I feel terrible, I want to sleep all day but I can't because we have to wake up at seven and I'm not hungry but I have to eat anyway and then I feel even worse. I can't tell them that because they'll put me on more medicines and I don't want any more. Mum and Douglas and Martin had to go on a trip, so I won't see them for a while. I miss them a lot because people aren't really nice in here and they are. The others are all shouty or sad or they have friends like me with them and ignore me. One of the others hit me and now my eye hurts. The doctors just want to give me more medicine and ask me what's wrong and I don't want this. I want to go home._

Herc read every letter, no matter how short or long or how messy or neat Arthur's handwriting was. Some of them had little chicken scratch drawings on them, like clouds with a plane or Martin with a lemon on his hat. Some had geometric shapes scribbled on them. Some had extra lines crossed out to the point where the paper had ripped jagged holes in it from the force of the pen. Those ones bothered Herc, as he couldn't imagine Arthur being that forceful with anything.

The length of time between letters grew, and Herc was worried when he received one two months after the last. It was the shortest, but it filled Herc with the most dread. The handwriting was nearly illegible, the drawings were gone, but there were lots of holes in the paper where Arthur had clearly tried to write more but couldn't. In the end, there was only a little space at the bottom of the page with his scrawl.

_Mum is gone, isn't she?_

\-------------

Herc received one more letter after that, three and a half months after the last. The handwriting was neat, no drawings or holes or anything other than three well-drawn flowers drawn in the corner, which Herc recognized as a marigold, a black rose, and a lily of the valley. He didn't even know Arthur could draw flowers. Maybe he should have encouraged him to draw more. There was much he didn't know about Arthur, but it didn't matter once he read the note.

_They're letting me leave today. But I don't want to go home. Home isn't home anymore, not without Mum in it telling me not to leave things lying around and telling me to stay in my part of the house when she has friends of hers over for dinner. I want to be with Mum and Douglas and Martin in the sky. So I'm going to be. It's okay, I'll be happy again. Don't worry about me._

Herc set the letter down and sighed. He knew this wouldn't end well.

Arthur was nothing without MJN, and that's why he wasn't surprised when he was called into the hospital. Botched suicide attempt. Several broken bones and internal injuries, limited lifespan and lung capacity, too many scars and marks to count. Frankly, the outlook wasn't good, especially because life support was involved. Arthur was awake but quiet, and Herc was transported back to when and where this all started. Then he remembered the flowers and was inwardly amazed at just how intelligent Arthur was. He was telling him what he wanted through symbolism.

Arthur looked up at him and muttered, his eyes shining with tears.

"I'm a clot, aren't I...?"

Herc swallowed around the lump growing in his throat.

"No. No, you simply want to be with your family. You aren't a clot for that. You never were. You were important to everyone you knew, whether they said it or not. I'm going to help you be where you want to be, because I can't stand to see you this way. Carolyn wouldn't want this, nor the others. I'm going to send you home."

Without another word, Herc walked around to the wall behind the bed, having pulled some gloves on, and unplugged the whirring machines and placed the wires so it looked accidental, throwing the gloves away after.

Herc couldn't look Arthur in the eye, but Arthur smiled, genuine and guilelessly.

"Brilliant...thank you."

"You're welcome, Arthur. Be happy....tell Carolyn I say hello."

Herc left, and when he was near the elevators, he could hear the frantic beeping of the heart monitors and the rush of nurses and doctors running to the emergency, code blue sirens going off.

Herc smiled as he entered the elevator. Arthur was finally happy.

\-----------

_"My poor dolt of a boy..."_

_Carolyn hugged her son tight, crying tears of happiness and something not quite akin to sadness but bitterness. Martin and Douglas hugged him as well, and they were all calling him stupid, though Arthur knew that when they said it the way they were, it wasn't an insult._

_"You clot....we missed you."_

_Arthur simply smiled, he'd been beaming ever since he'd arrived._

_"Me, too. But we're all here together again now, aren't we?"_

_They nodded in agreement._

_"We are."_

_With that, the four walked off, Arthur occasionally trying out his new wings to the amusement of the others._

_They were all flying in the sky once more, some more literally than others._

_Arthur couldn't have been happier if he tried._

**Author's Note:**

> Just for reference, marigolds symbolize pain and grief, black roses symbolize death, and lilies of the valley(Lily of the valleys?) symbolize returning happiness. I love flower symbolism and Arthur seems like the type to like walking through a little garden or something, so he might know a little bit about them. The adorable, smart dolt.
> 
> A/N: I've done a little mini art for this, since this fic has somewhat broken a long bout of creativity block. It may be a bit odd to make fanart of my own fic, but I do this a lot. I love visualizing my own ideas even after writing them. [Here you go.](http://manic-merc-mannerisms.tumblr.com/post/45462235898/so-i-got-bored-while-on-the-drive-back-home-and-i)


End file.
